


Watch the Stars Fall

by wearethewitches



Category: Star Trek: Alternate Original Series (Movies), Star Trek: Discovery
Genre: Amanda Grayson Lives, Fix-It, Gen, Post-Season/Series 02, Somebody Lives/Not Everyone Dies, Time Travel, Time Travel Fix-It, cmon its a deus ex machina except im using it like they did in season one SIKE, liberal use of the spore drive
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-30
Updated: 2019-04-30
Packaged: 2020-02-10 02:59:20
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,511
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18651526
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wearethewitches/pseuds/wearethewitches
Summary: When theDiscoverygoes through the wormhole, instead of Terralysium, they find themselves in an alternate timeline - one where the U.S.S.Kelvinwas destroyed in 2233.-or, I want to fixStar Trek 2009and now I actually have a plausible way to do it. Michael-centric, new plot and I refuse to name Vulcans an endangered species.





	Watch the Stars Fall

The time they end up in is not where they want to go.

 _Discovery_ drifts for a while, her power fluctuating and stabilising as everyone rushes to fix what was broken. Michael in the timesuit is outside and she is the only one who knows what is going on – but her communications with _Discovery_ are down and she cannot explain.

 _We fell sideways through time,_ she wants to say to them, _the suit wasn’t powerful enough to escape the gravitation of another wormhole. We’re in an alternate timeline, barely a year after we arrived, in twenty-two fifty-eight._

Michael had sent the final, seventh signal through back to Spock during the lapse, between _Discovery_ entering the new timeline and the wormhole closing. She hopes he gets her message, even if she can’t confirm that they’re safe – not really. The timesuit is able to read the timelines and the ripple effect is clear, starting from the year twenty-two thirty-three.

Eventually, Michael flies back to _Discovery_ and meets with Saru on the bridge.

“Our systems are picking up Starfleet satellites, but our access codes are defunct.”

“It’s worse than that,” Michael says to him, a feeling of certainty in her bones. “I don’t believe that the U.S.S. _Discovery_ exists in this timeline. Something went wrong when we passed this time, like I was pulled off-course. The timesuit recognised it as another wormhole and I don’t know how, but I couldn’t keep my course. I guided _Discovery_ wrong.”

“Michael…” Saru puts his hand on her shoulder. “Whatever happened, I do not believe you to be at fault. Whenever we are, whatever reality we are in, we trust you – everyone on board _Discovery_ knew they would never be going home. To keep the Sphere data safe, we can never go back.”

“I know,” Michael says, but she’s melancholy.

They’re in a charted system. Delta Vega is the nearest planet and _Discovery_ orbits her, letting the natural forces of gravity float her with only minimal correction. From the window, Michael can see Vulcan in the distance – so close, yet so far. The orbit allows Keyla Detmer time off from piloting, replaced for two shifts along with everyone else as the alternating team takes over in cleaning up _Discovery._

“We should try contacting a Starfleet outpost and request new codes.”

“As luck would have it…” Saru gestures to Bryce, who pulls up a set of signals.

“Delta Vega itself has a Starfleet outpost, seemingly unmanned except for a skeleton crew. We’ve been keeping silent, but if they have spotted us, we’ve had no contact on their part.”

Michael pulls the signals over. There’s the usual Starfleet spiel about Federation space – automated, recorded years ago – but the security clearance required to land is unfamiliar to her.

“How could Starfleet change so much in twenty-five years?” she asks aloud, trying to see the logic in it all. “The timesuit’s scans indicated there was a large divergence, but…”

“Are spore-drives even a thing?” Tilly asks from her post behind Michael, twirling around in her chair. “I mean, it happened in the alternate universe, but that was like…an evil, mirror-verse.”

“Thank-you for the compliment,” Philippa flashes her a smile as she enters the bridge. “Captain, requesting use of a shuttle for an expeditionary force.”

Saru turns slightly, watching her come up beside him. “Agent Georgiou. Why would you need an expeditionary force?”

“To infiltrate that outpost,” Philippa replies cheerily. Michael sighs.

“We might not need to infiltrate it. Starfleet might welcome us with open arms.”

“Or open fire.” Philippa tuts, before looking to Saru. “You all may be Starfleet, but I am not.”

“No. You are Section Thirty-One,” Saru states shrewdly, eyeing her up and down. Michael watches him tap his fingers on the Chair panel, bringing up the high-range imaging of the snowy outpost. “Diplomacy first, always. Infiltration, if needed, may be implemented after failure _and_ agreement upon a plan.”

Philippa sighs and Saru gives Bryce the order to hail the base. Tense, the crew wait as the signal goes out, waiting and waiting.

“Sir, I don’t think they’re going to respond,” Bryce says, tentative.

“Wait,” Saru commands him, watching the screen. “It is a large base for just a skeleton crew. We have no idea where they might get-”

The hail is answered and the crackles are loud and snappy as an accented voice calls out, “ _This is Starfleet’s Delta Vega outpost. Is this the supply run? I’ve been stuck out her in the arse-end of nowhere and if this is not the supply run, I will send a complaint to Starfleet Command._ ”

Throughout the short speech, Michael’s eyebrows rise higher and higher. When the man finishes, Saru hesitantly replies.

“This is Captain Saru of the U.S.S. _Discovery._ We are, unfortunately, not your supply-runners.”

“ _Oh. Well, that’s useless. I’m living off nothing, here, just replicated nonsense. What I wouldn’t do for a good fry-up or- oh! A burger, oh yes._ ”

Saru coughs, “Be that as it may, Mr…”

“ _Lieutenant-Commander Montgomery Scott, engineering, but everyone calls me Scotty. Say, I’ve never heard of a U.S.S. Discovery, before. My scanners are picking you up as…well, they don’t know. Oh, your a beaut though, aren’t- no. No Keenser, I’m not talking to_ you _, you bite-sized oaf._ ”

“Lieutenant-Commander,” Saru interrupts what appears to be an argument with a colleague. Michael thinks Scott’s lack of formality may lie with the isolation of Delta Vega. “The _Discovery_ was involved in a particular phenomenon that means we have crossed time-streams. Accidental our arrival _here_ may have been, the outcome of moving to another time and place is what we hoped for.”

“ _Say what? Crossing time-streams?_ ” Scott questions, the crackling intensifying briefly. “ _Now, that- that…okay, say you’re telling the truth, why are you here talking to me? Why not talk to Command?_ ”

“Our access codes are invalid here. We have no way to access the Starfleet communications relay,” Saru describes.

“ _Bad luck there, mate. If I had long-range transmissions here, do you think I’d be asking every starship that passes by if they had food? We’re too far from anything here, except Vulcan – but they’re nutters who mind their own business and don’t talk to me anymore. I couldn’t give you codes unless I gave you my own – and I’m far from qualified to captain a starship right now, according to Starfleet._ ”

Michael frowns at Scott’s description of their communications in this timeline, ignoring his comment on his own credentials and Vulcan. “Captain, may I?”

Saru glances back, nodding before talking to Scott again. “Commander, our science officer wishes to speak to you.”

“ _Alright. Hit me._ ”

“Lieutenant-Commander Scott,” Michael begins, only for Scott to interrupt her.

“ _It’s Scotty, honestly. Much easier to say._ ”

“…Scotty,” Michael corrects herself. “You mentioned a lack of long-range communication. In our timeline, Delta Vega has technology capable of long-range transmissions, implying that something may have triggered this change. We have discerned that the point of divergence took place in the year twenty-two thirty-three. Were there any major events or changes to Starfleet that year?”

Immediately, Scotty’s tone changes, “ _Oh, lass. Thirty-three – that was when the U.S.S. Kelvin was destroyed. Big event, memorial statue at Starfleet Academy, the whole shebang. Changed the way Starfleet approached recruitment and boosted starship design up a few hundred levels, even if they lagged a bit in production. The new flagship of the fleet, the_ Enterprise _, is said to be one of a kind._ ”

“The U.S.S. _Enterprise?_ It hasn’t already been built?”

“ _She’s still in docking, last I heard,_ ” Scotty tells her, “ _Not even gone on her maiden voyage, as of yet. No idea who’s going to be flying her._ ”

“I think we know,” Saru says and the name is on all of their minds: Christopher Pike.

“ _Wonderful. Now, would you happen to have any real food on board? I’d kill for something that isn’t replicated._ ”

“We can send something down. A shuttle will be there within the hour.” Saru states, “Until then, Commander.”

“ _Too-de-loo,_ ” Scotty offers cheerfully and they can hear his muffled whoop of joy as Bryce cuts the connection.

“I can’t believe it,” Keyla breathes. “The _Enterprise_ isn’t running, here. How do you think Pike got his reputation in this timeline?”

“He might not have it,” Michael admits, not wanting to break her vision but having to. “We are going to be faced with a different Starfleet with a different history and…”

“Do you think they had a war against the Klingons, here?” Nilsson asks. “Against Control?”

“I shouldn’t think so, unless the timelines are meant to happen as they happen. Dr Burnham said something to that effect, I believe.”

“‘Time is a living thing. It has gravity and will.’” Michael quotes. “She was implying that things will always happen as they were meant to happen, though deviations in time may allow for the outcome to shift.”

A shuttle is taken down to the outpost and Scotty welcomes them with cheer – especially when someone hands him a packet of dried apricots. He actually hugs that person. Michael goes down with the group to the base, along with Philippa and together, they comb it, keeping out of sight of the lieutenant-commander and his colleague, Keenser.

“If this is the peak of Starfleet’s advancement here…they are several years behind, Michael.”

“Yes,” she agrees, “but what I want to know is which advancements were made _instead_. There can’t have been stagnation, or there wouldn’t _be_ difference. Not this much.”

“Politics only move as fast as the politicians,” Philippa says, sounding like Michael’s captain for a moment – sounding like herself. _They are two different people, but they are the same, at the core,_ Michael thinks. She doesn’t confuse either of the Philippa’s in her mind, but it’s words like that, that catch her off-guard. The Emperor is a crouching tiger, always ready to strike or play games. The Captain was…quips and wisdom. She didn’t hide or play chess as the Emperor does.

Two different people; but they have the same voice and the same caring. Michael listens to them both.

“Starfleet has changed on the surface, but it has not changed at heart. Scotty would not have welcomed you, otherwise. A good person – a good Starfleet officer.”

Michael inclines her head in agreement, before they return to the shuttle. None of the _Discovery’s_ crew will stay, despite Scotty’s begging, but they promise to put in a good word for him with Command.

“Well? What is your analysis of the situation, Commander?”

Michael faces Saru with a straight face. “I believe we would be met with hostility at first, possibly boarded and arrested. The _Discovery_ would be taken and studied, most definitely. Ultimately, we as a crew would either rejoin Starfleet, Section Thirty-One or be put into hiding, scattered across the universe, far away from our alternate selves – but I do not believe we would be given back our ship, Captain.”

“I don’t want to be put into hiding, or lose _Discovery,_ ” Joann Owosekun says, murmurs of agreement being spread around the bridge. Saru tenses briefly, before nodding himself.

“I agree. Your assessment is sound, Michael.” He looks to Bryce. “Open a ship-wide channel.”

“Yes, sir.”

Saru clears his throat. “Crew of _Discovery_. Previously, I informed you all of our arrival in an alternate timeline. We will be approaching Starfleet, but our method is still to be determined. We believe that if we were to reveal ourselves, Starfleet would abscond with our ship and do hither to unknown things with us, most likely placing us in hiding or recruiting us for other purposes. I do not want that for us, or for _Discovery_ , so…please prepare to make waves in this new reality. Saru, out.”

The channel closes and Michael catches Saru’s eyes, lip twitching. “What are you going to do, Captain?”

Saru smiles smugly, activating the comm panel on the Chair. “Lieutenant-Commander Stamets, I was informed that the spore drive has refuelled itself since charging the time travel. Would you be willing to be our navigator, again?”

“ _Captain,_ ” Stamets replies, voice positive. “ _Let’s get going. Where are we headed?_ ”

“Earth orbit,” Saru replies. “If you can, make our entrance…flashy.”

“ _Aye, captain,_ ” Stamets answers. “ _Readying spore drive now._ ”

“Black Alert,” Saru points to Nilsson, who nods and turns the lights dark. Michael grins, apprehension rising in her chest. It’s a good feeling.

At her side, Philippa takes her hand, squeezing. Michael squeezes back.

* * *

Earth is blue and green, part of it in darkness and bright from space. The _Discovery_ jumps from Delta Vega to Earth in mere seconds and there’s a different taste to the air afterwards, like they’re travelling through a new country. Michael wonders if the mycelial network could navigate time as well – it navigates universes well enough.

“Remember now, diplomacy, but with a stern attitude,” Saru says to them all, though Michael thinks the words are aimed at himself more than anything. They wait for the nearby starships, bases and Earth itself to see them; they don’t wait long.

“Sir, we’re being hailed by multiple vessels. Each approaching from a different direction – Starfleet Headquarters requesting communications, captain.”

“Take Headquarters, send messages affirming this to the other vessels. Put up holograms, if possible,” Saru orders, rolling his neck before straightening in the Chair.

No hologram appears. Instead, a communications officer appears on-screen, the data in the corner telling Michael they’re based in Paris.

“ _Unknown vessel, you have entered Earth and Federation space without authorisation, while using unknown technology. Please state your ship’s registration and business._ ”

“We are the U.S.S. _Discovery_ ,” Saru states. “I am Captain Saru and these are my crew. Our technology is Alpha-level classified, from an alternate timeline. We come here in good faith.”

“ _If this is so, you are breaking the Temporal Prime Directive in some fashion,_ ” the officer points out, attention obviously taken off-screen. “ _Prepare to be boarded by the crew of the U.S.S. Farragut._ ”

“No,” Saru refuses. The officer pauses.

“ _Pardon?_ ”

“We will not be boarded. As you stated, we are breaking the Temporal Prime Directive in a fashion. It was our intention to be seen and noticed, so we cannot be squirrelled away off into the far corners of the universe or the depths of Section Thirty-One. However, we will not give up our ship nor any of our crew, as the technology is vastly significant compared to your technological development. We wish to ally with Starfleet and become, once again, a science vessel; possibly, even get professional repairs done to the main ship. But we will not be boarded unless absolutely necessary.”

“ _This is against regulation,_ ” the officer mutters. “ _Stay where you are. You will be contacted again shortly._ ” The communication ends and Saru sags in his seat.

“Well done, sir,” Michael says to him. “It’s the first step.”

Saru goes to reply, only for Bryce to clear his throat, “Sir, picking up a distress call from Vulcan! They’re calling it a major ecological disaster – emergency evacuation of the entire planetary population required.”

“Black Alert,” Saru orders.

“But they said to stay here,” Gen Rhys protests weakly.

“We will help them, Lieutenant Rhys,” Saru says sternly, before they jump, Nilsson obviously having informed Stamets where they’re off to in the short interim. Immediately, it becomes clear why Vulcan is in distress.

“What the _hell_ is that thing doing?” Michael demands, staring at the giant device hanging from what looks to be a Romulan vessel. It’s huge – almost larger than the Klingon Empress’ cleave-ship, if only in space taken up rather than actual mass as a whole.

“Looks like a mining ship, but…bigger,” Keyla offers.

“There’s a laser coring through the planet with an ion beam,” Michael says, once she’s actually managed to tear her eyes away from Vulcan and look at her station. She flips through what _Discovery_ has picked up and feels panic rise in her chest. “They’re aiming for the planet centre. But why?”

“Not anything good,” Saru says, leaning forwards. “Red Alert – Rhys, prime photon torpedoes. Aim for the laser. That ship is far too large to incapacitate on our own.”

“Torpedoes primed, sir.

“Sir,” Owosekun starts, “they’re locking on.”

“Detmer, evasive manoeuvres. Rhys, fire at will. Nilsson, inform engineering to plot an evasive course should Commander Stamets be willing.”

“Aye, sir.”

“Commander Burnham, run analytics. Figure out what that ship is doing and why. Bryce – contact Vulcan Command, inform them they are being attacked. This is _not_ an ecological disaster. Then attempt to get a hold of any starships in the vicinity and inform them as well.”

“ _Aye, captain_.”

Keyla evades as she can, but shields drop and drop as they’re hit. When they reach sixty percent, they begin jumping and suddenly, their battle gets a lot easier. Michael’s fingers begin to fumble and she notices, in the midst of it all, how they go short and quick; how Rhys’ eyes glaze over in a haze of concentration and Keyla goes _hard._

Saru is the worst. Saru snaps orders like he’s Gabriel Lorca himself and so help them all if anything goes wrong.

“Sir, half a dozen starships just dropped out of warp,” Bryce informs them, right before they take a direct hit to the helm.

“Shields down to twenty-three percent!”

“Not good enough!” Saru shouts, before they’re hailed. A comm opens up at Saru’s command with female Andorian at the helm of a ship and Michael looks at her station screens, rather than through the glass as she runs the ship specs through as many databases as _Discovery_ has.

“ _This is Captain Holland of the U.S.S. Antares, who are you and what is this thing?_ ”

“Captain Holland, this is Captain Saru of the U.S.S. _Discovery-_ ” Saru starts, only for the hail to cut out as Holland disappears with a scream, several starships getting blown to hell and back by the ship’s weapons. Michael is staggered by the loss that the fleet is suffering right now.

Philippa stumbles against her as the ship rocks. “This is ridiculous,” she spits. “Their weapons are _pitiful_.”

“Starfleet is for exploration,” Michael grunts, her words feeling a little tasteless in the current situation. Philippa scoffs.

Bryce contacts the other ships and they’re put on comms together, just like when they faced Control and Section 31 only the day before. It seems that short-range comms work perfectly fine, though long-range are out. Except for one defining factor, Michael thinks they could win: but that defining factor is that all the starships being blown up around them are all being manned by Academy students. Michael is not hopeful.

“Mayflower, take the left flank – Truman, follow her. Wolcott and Farragut, try dealing with that mining drill-”

The U.S.S. _Odyssey_ is blown to smithereens. The _Hood_ and the _Newton_ were out for the count immediately and the _Armstrong_ is limping along on the sidelines. _Discovery,_ meanwhile, tries to navigate the debris, using it as shielding when the Romulan ship tries firing on them.

The _Wolcott_ is destroyed, blown in half. The _Farragut_ has her nacelles cut out from under her.

“Shields at sixteen percent!”

Michael cuts in as Saru orders Rhys to fire on their drill. “Wait! Don’t fire on that drill!”

“Why?” Saru shouts over the noise their systems going absolutely haywire.

“They’ll just target us more. We need to make a tactical retreat, focus on getting Vulcan’s off-planet.”

Saru doesn’t hesitate. “ _Armstrong,_ are you able to beam aboard survivors?”

The captain, a red-faced engineering track cadet who’d taken over from their previous captain only minutes ago, nods hurriedly. “ _We’ll go around to the other side of the planet and stay out of sight._ ”

“The Vulcan capital city of ShiKahr is right below us,” Michael interrupts, shaking her head. “The other side of the planet is empty desert except for priests and outcasts.”

“ _We’ll fly down, then,_ ” the cadet captain says, eyes bright with fear and determination. “ _The laser is interfering with transportation beams, so we’ll go in ourselves._ ”

“There isn’t much time – go now, before you’re killed too.”

“ _Aye, sir,_ ” the cadet captain ends their hail and outside, they see the _Armstrong_ blazing a path down to the surface.

“Cover them! All power to helm shields,” Saru orders and they dive down, _Discovery’_ s shields taking a beating.

“ _Discovery!_ ” _Mayflower’_ s captain cries out for them – another cadet forced into the position who doesn’t know what to do. “ _Our shields are down to nine percent!_ ”

“Follow the _Armstrong,_ get the Vulcan population and retreat.”

The _Truman_ explodes in a ball of flame and if sound travelled in space, Michael would be very sure it would be loud. They cover for the _Mayflower_ as it travels down to the surface, their shields lowering even further to three percent.

“Black Alert – Stamets, to the edge of the battlefield. Draw them out.”

They jump, just in time to avoid a missile that would have destroyed them. Then another starship drops out of warp and Michael barely recognises it – she’s pristine as can be. But recognise it she does.

“The flagship,” Keyla says, eyes locked on it.

“ _Enterprise_ ,” Michael breathes, thinking _Spock is on that ship. Pike is on that ship._ They watch from a distance as it navigates the treacherous minefield of starship debris, then begin manoeuvres to avoid the Romulan ship’s impressively powerful arsenal.

They get hit once and Saru asks Bryce to hail them. A channel opens immediately and there he is: Christopher Pike. He’s greyer than the last time they saw him – actually, he looks about ten years older. _Stress can induce rapid aging,_ Michael thinks, wondering if the destruction of the U.S.S. _Kelvin_ affected his timeline somehow.

At his shoulder is a stranger, but behind _him_ is her brother at his station; Spock looks fraught and Michael’s heart explodes from joy. _Little brother!_ Her heart cries, but the words do not escape her as she bundles herself up tight, Vulcan composure in place as Pike talks.

“ _Who are you? Why are you at the edge of the battlefield?_ ” he barks and the grimness he exudes is distracting.

“Captain Pike, this is Captain Saru of the U.S.S. _Discovery._ We aided the cadet-run vessels in their attempt against the Romulan ship. The _Mayflower_ and the _Armstrong_ are currently collecting survivors from the surface. Our shields are at three percent and holding.”

“ _Understood,_ ” Pike nods, before being distracted by something. Michael sees Saru’s head tilt, his eyes widening before he settles himself. “ _Discovery, we’re being hailed by the Romulan vessel. I’m adding him to the channel._ ”

“Of course,” Saru nods, before the screen shifts – Pike to the left and the Romulan to the right.

“ _Hello,_ ” he says, looking between them. His expression shifts at the sight of _Discovery_ on the line. There is a moment of silence, before Pike speaks.

“ _I’m Christopher Pike. This is Captain Saru. To whom am I speaking?_ ”

The Romulan inclines his head, speaking casually. “ _Hi Christopher, Saru – I’m Nero.”_

“ _You’ve declared war against the Federation. Withdraw,_ ” Pike orders. “ _I’ll agree to arrange a conference with Romulan leadership at a neutral location._ ”

“ _I do not speak for the Empire. We stand apart…_ ” Nero pauses, “ _as does your Vulcan crewmember, isn’t that right, Spock?_ ”

“Spock?” Michael repeats, watching as he stands from his station in _Enterprise_ and addresses the Romulan insurgent.

“ _Pardon me, I do not believe that you and I are acquainted._ ”

“ _No, we’re not. Not yet._ ” Nero says and all of a sudden, something makes sense in Michael’s mind. She moves forwards, past her station to stand beside the Chair. Saru looks up at her.

“What year are you from?” she demands. Nero quizzes them.

“ _Who are you? I saw your ship. It was moving from place to place, but you can’t teleport a starship of your size._ ”

“Just because this timeline hasn’t invented the technology yet, doesn’t mean another has not,” Michael replies firmly. “You’ve met Spock before, either a different reality’s version or a future version. I’ll ask you again: what year are you from?”

Nero grins all of a sudden. “ _Twenty-three eighty-seven. You?_ ”

“Twenty-two fifty-seven.”

“ _The year the war ended,_ ” Nero leans forwards, peering at her with a strange form of relief. “ _Your face. It’s familiar. Who are you?_ ”

“Don’t answer that, Number One,” Saru snaps, before Michael can say anything. His words shock her anyhow: Number One. The last time she was anyone’s XO, Philippa died. “How did you travel from twenty-three eighty-seven? When did you first arrive?”

Nero bares his teeth. “ _We’ve been here twenty-five years, stewing in our anger and our hate. But we are from the future and our technology is superior – Spock, there’s something I would like you to see. Captain Pike, your transporter has been disabled. As you can see by the rest of your armada, you have no choice. You will man a shuttle, come aboard the Narada for negotiations. That is all._ ” He swipes the screen, disappearing and they’re left there, _Enterprise_ and _Discovery._

“ _Time travel? What the hell were you on about, there?_ ”

“Captain Pike,” Saru straightens, putting a hand on Michael’s arm briefly. She backs up slightly, hands folding behind her back. “On this ship we have a deep respect for you and as such, I will be honest: we are time travellers, of a sort. We were thrown off-course when we attempted to travel a thousand years into the future where Section Thirty-One’s artificial intelligence could never find the archival data we had collected from a sentient celestial object. It had compiled enough data that Control could evolve and should that have happened, all sentient life would have been eliminated.”

“ _Wait, so…you’re from another universe?_ ” asks the man by Pike’s shoulder, standing with Spock.

“No, another timeline,” Saru clarifies. “The same timeline in which this Nero character comes from, I assume. This reality is divergent from our own, when Nero travelled back and presumably caused the destruction of the U.S.S. _Kelvin._ Time changed and so did Starfleet.”

“ _So, you know nothing that could help us?_ ” Pike ascertains, before standing. “ _Because that drill is a complication we need solved. I’ll be sending down a team to disable it manually._ ”

“We will not be much use in a combat situation,” Saru says, “but our ship travels a network that allows it to jump between different points in space. We will assist the remaining starships in evacuating Vulcan.”

“ _You do not know Vulcan_ ,” Spock interrupts, turning to Pike. “ _I must go to the planet’s surface. Requesting permission to leave Enterprise, Captain._ ”

“ _Denied,_ ” Pike immediately says, Michael’s mind whirling.

“I’ll get the Elders out,” she says, Spock’s eyes whipping to the viewscreen. “The Katric Ark. I’ll get them out, Spock. If transporters are disabled, we have more time than you.”

“We must go now, though,” Saru says, not waiting for Spock’s response as he points his finger at Pike. “Do _not_ die. You were our captain once, too and we left you behind. You are not allowed to leave us again so soon.”

Pike’s expression would be hilarious in any other situation, but the bridge is grim as Saru cuts the comms, alerting Stamets to their intentions. _Discovery_ goes on Black Alert and then, they prepare for a rough jump.

“ _The gravity will be hellish. I’m putting us over a mountain-top,_ ” Stamets tells them. “ _Detmer, use thrusters indiscriminately._ ”

“Aye-aye,” Keyla replies and they jump, their rough appearance sending several standing officers to the floor. Michael uses her trip to start into a run, however, as Saru orders her to the shuttlebay.

“Get your parents!” he shouts and Michael only runs faster. They don’t have much time.

* * *

In her mind, she counts down how long it will take for that drill to reach the core of the planet. Presumably, they have a way to destabilise it. Nero’s reaction to Spock was purposefully vague – and it is sparking something in Michael’s mind.

Twenty-five years.

 _He had twenty-five years to do whatever it is he’s doing, so why now? Why now, for us appearing here? What am I missing? Future Spock –_ my _Spock – did something and Nero and his crew were ‘stewing in their anger and their hate’?_

“ _Communications worsen the closer we are to the drill. The Mayflower and the Armstrong are nearly at full capacity, yet are taking on more,_ ” Saru informs Michael through the shuttle as she activates it, flying it out alongside the few others. The majority of _Discovery’s_ shuttles were lost when they left them behind, but out of the small fleet, they deliberately left behind five for emergency purposes. Michael wishes they’d left more now, when Vulcan is in danger and her people need saving.

“They’re cadets,” Michael says, “they don’t know how many their ships can hold. What class are they?”

“ _Agent Georgiou is transferring to the Mayflower as we speak. Ensign Tilly is taking control of the Armstrong – her ‘Captain Killy’ disposition is being revisited, as is that same rank._ ”

Michael grimaces, but if Tilly believes it’s necessary, she won’t argue; Tilly is the one who is the most afraid of her alternate self out of all of them. Anyone would be, if they were in her position. If she believes it has to be so, then Michael will trust her.

“Is _Discovery_ enroute?”

“ _We are currently above ShiKahr, above the Vulcan Learning Centre. Where are you going?_ ”

“The Katric Ark. It’s a sanctuary of knowledge. The Vulcan Council of Elders need to be evacuated.”

“ _It’s basically Vulcan HQ, right?_ ” she hears Nilsson question.

“ _Indeed. Michael – once you get them out, bring them straight to Discovery. Another officer will be waiting to relieve you. We will need you to act as the interim Starfleet Ambassador alongside Ambassador Sarek._ ”

“Gladly,” Michael says, wanting to be assured that her parents will be safe throughout this. She approaches the Katric Ark and parks her shuttle as close to the vaulted mountain doors as possible, turning on the autopilot to keep it steady. In the distance, she can see the ion laser beaming down on the planet, causing clouds and tectonic shifts.

Then, once again, she runs.

It has been weeks since she has stepped foot on Vulcan, but it has been years since she ran. The air is dry on her crackly throat and it doesn’t help that the mountain is shaking. She makes her way into the Ark and the sight of her causes T’Pau to make a scandalised face.

“Human!”

“Human raised in the Vulcan ways!” Michael retorts immediately, before getting to the meat of the situation. “A rogue Romulan ship is mining into the core of the planet. Assumedly, he’s going to attempt to destabilise Vulcan, so I need you all to evacuate right now.”

“Who are you to order us in such a way?” Sarek steps forwards into the light and Michael stares at him for a long moment, before looking to Amanda at his side.

“Lady Grayson, Spock is currently in orbit above us. I promised him I would empty the Katric Ark, but if I have to, I will carry you and your husband out forcibly. There is a shuttle outside. If I do not tell him you are off-planet, he will come down here himself, I am completely sure.”

There’s a fire in Amanda’s eyes as she steps forwards, tugging Sarek’s robes. “Husband, follow her. You know our son, he _will_ put himself in danger to save us.”

“…I agree,” Sarek replies. T’Pau purses her lips at his side before swanning forwards, right before he and Amanda do; immediately, it’s like a switch has been flipped, the Elders of Vulcan following her towards the exit. Michael, seeing T’Pau’s neck held high, but her slow gate, takes off her jacket and puts it around her shoulders, apologising in the most profuse Ancient Golic she can muster at short notice before lifting her off the ground.

“You will pay for this,” T’Pau growls – though Michael can feel the prod in her brain where T’Pau is scanning her surface thoughts. She is too used to the sensation from a childhood with Spock and sharing a katra with Sarek; T’Pau senses the latter soon into her explorations and its only hen Michael rests her on a seat in the shuttle does it stop. The Matriarch of Sarek’s House is silent.

Michael sits in the control seat, turning on comms as she drives the shuttle towards ShiKahr. “This is Burnham to _Discovery_ , I have the Vulcan Elders. Repeat, I have the Vulcan Elders. The Katric Ark is empty and I have a final count of seventeen.”

“ _Well done, Michael,_ ” Saru congratulates her. “ _We are still in the capital. The Learning Centre is empty and we are accepting Academy students and any other civilians who do not own a space-craft. The Mayflower and the Armstrong are nearly doubled to each of their capacities and are jumping to warp from the surface, rather than risk being hit by the Narada’s weaponry._ ”

Behind her, Michael hears the Elders murmur to themselves at the news and she forcibly keeps her eyes forwards.

“How many?” she demands to know.

“ _The Mayflower has over six thousand civilian passengers. The Armstrong, due to the damage done in battle, have less in comparison when ship-size is considered – but they have nine and a half thousand Vulcans, Michael. More got away before we even sent the starships to the surface._ ”

“Not endangered,” Michael confirms to herself, estimating that ten thousand may have been evacuated already and that more have squirrelled themselves away around the universe, out of sight and out of mind. “Twenty-five thousand Vulcans, give or take.”

Saru goes to say something, but immediately cuts himself off to instead say, “ _Enterprise has deactivated the drill, I repeat, Enterprise has deactivated the drill. Michael, hurry to us. Transporters now beaming survivors to the U.S.S. Enterprise en masse._ ”

“I’m here,” Michael says, flying around a mountain to enter ShiKahr proper. The computer locates _Discovery_ and she flies for the shuttle-bay, explaining to the Elders the plan to reuse the shuttle for evacuation as they land. This time, it is Sarek who lifts T’Pau, despite her grumblings. Like Michael, he offers apologies in Ancient Golic – though his are far more fluent, likely from lifetime of using it in the Vulcan High Council.

“Follow me,” she says, watching a crewmember take the shuttle out as soon as they’ve left the ramp. The Elders are like ducklings, following her stride towards the bay doors. It is only when she starts moving towards the bridge does Michael realise she has no idea where to place them. They’re entering the turbolift when she makes her decision, telling Amanda – who is going in the second lift with the other Elders – to request for Alpha crew quarters.

“You are taking us to your personal rooms,” T’Pau says starkly. “Why?”

“You are the Elders,” Michael says quietly. “As such, you deserve respect.”

“You did not show respect when you evacuated the Katric Ark,” T’Pau replies, “but that is your human weakness showing. You will not make that mistake again, Granddaughter.”

Michael actually turns to face her, surprised. “Lady T’Pau?”

“Don’t play coy,” T’Pau shakes her head. Many of the Elders look at her like she’s batty, including Sarek. “You are from another reality and in that reality, you grew up in the care of my House. I approved of you then, I approve of you now.”

Michael bows her head lowly, unable to do so properly in such tight quarters. “ _Ko-mekh-il._ ”

She leads them to the captain’s quarters. Saru, she knows, has no intention of moving his belongings there – his plants are settled in the next room to the left. Across from the captain’s quarters are Airiam’s – Nilsson’s now, technically, but like Saru she didn’t want to leave her own room either. She gives them the access keys for both.

“If you wish to spread out, the late Commander Airiam was a cyborg. She has a less… _human_ room,” Michael says, eyes locking on some of Pike’s personal belongings that he hadn’t removed in time. She picks up a framed photo of him standing with Number One and puts it down flat again, when she catches an Elder looking. “Lady T’Pau, I give you permission to tell those of what circumstances you saw in my mind.”

“Your consent was freely given in payment for lifting me, but I will respect _some_ of your privacy,” T’Pau says and Michael bows properly this time, before returning to the bridge.

“Spock has been informed,” Saru says, voice shaky, “but Nero’s foul deed is done. There is a singularity being manufactured in the core of Vulcan.”

“A black hole?” Michael says and the words are like razors in her mouth. She leans against her station, white-knuckled. There are four Vulcans in the room, one manning comms with Bryce, another at Tilly’s seat, another with Nilsson and the fourth standing by Michael at the science station.

“There is nothing we can do but leave.” Saru says. “Are all the shuttles accounted for?”

“All but one, sir,” Keyla says.

“Inform them they have until thirty seconds before the planet collapses in on itself to return to the shuttle bay,” Saru says, the words searing themselves in Michael’s mind. She stares at her planet through the window, gut wrenching.

“No,” she whispers, “no, no, no, no-”

“Commander,” the Vulcan at her side says and Michael looks; she looks and realises that the Vulcan is none other than T’Pring, Spock’s intended mate and wife. Her eyes are glassy in an uncharacteristic show of emotion. “We are all grieving. Captain Saru said you grew up in ShiKahr and have rescued the Elders of Vulcan. You must keep a logical mind until we are safe. The _Narada_ is still up above.”

Michael blinks back tears and nods, firm. “Thank-you.” She nods again, then turns back to her station, reading the scans and staring at the countdown a second too long, before speaking up. “Two minutes and twenty seconds till the singularity consumes the planet.”

“Ready for Black Alert,” Saru commands and T’Pring looks to Michael.

“What is Black Alert? It is not a Starfleet state of emergency I am aware of.”

Michael can’t help it. She smiles, despite her tears. “Your first Black Alert. Brace yourself.”

* * *

They jump away, intending to follow the _Enterprise_ to where the _Mayflower_ and the _Armstrong_ are parked out in the Sirius cluster, stopped at Alpha III. The plan is to drop off the refugees there before regrouping, but Spock requests that they put them on one of Vulcan’s moons instead, along with their own refugees, so they don’t have to detour.

On her way out, Amanda requests to speak to Michael.

“T’Pau informed me of our relationship in another timeline,” Amanda says, eyes roaming her form. Michael immediately feels ill at ease, because even though this _looks_ like her foster-mother, she is not her. It’s like Philippa all over again, except…well, except less worse, but somehow more delicate. “I think I would be proud of who you’ve become and what you’ve done, if you were my daughter.”

“But you aren’t,” Michael whispers, ashamed. She looks away, not wanting to see Amanda’s expression, but Amanda takes her hand, holding it between hers.

“Michael,” she says, looking so sincere. “This new timeline is going to be your home now. I want you to promise me you’ll find some peace here, in this universe. ‘ _Sometimes down is up, sometimes up is down_ -’”

“‘ _Sometimes when you’re lost, you’re found’_ ,” Michael finishes, a smile overtaking her face. It matches Amanda’s, whose eyes crinkles as she grins.

“You know Alice.”

“Only because you taught it to me.”

“Well, I’m a good teacher,” Amanda says, before drawing her close and pressing a kiss to her forehead. “I’ll see you again. I promise.”

“So do I,” Michael says, before the ambassador’s wife departs. Returning to the bridge, she finds herself watching the middle of an argument, Saru floundering as he tries – and fails – to get his two piece in.

“ _-gineering comprehension necessary to artificially create a black hole may suggest an answer. We already have verbal confirmation that he is from the future and such technology could theoretically create a tunnel through space-time._ ” Spock says, before another Human man – different to the one before, though _he_ specifically is still there on the _Enterprise_ bridge – growls out a short reply.

“ _Damnit, man, I’m a doctor, not a physicist. Are you actually suggesting they’re from the future?_ ”

“ _‘If you eliminate the impossible, whatever remains, however improbably, must be the truth,’_ ” Spock replies and Michael comes up beside T’Pring with her eyebrow quirked.

“Sherlock Holmes? Really, Spock?”

Spock turns to face the screen. “ _My literature habits are unimportant. I am told you succeeded in rescuing my parents and the Vulcan Elders. My thanks…_ ” Spock’s head tilts. “ _T’Pring._ ”

“Spock,” T’Pring greets, before going silent.

The man who had been standing at Pike’s shoulder clears his throat. “ _What would an angry, future Romulan want with Captain Pike? Wouldn’t he be long dead by- what? Twenty-two eighty?_ ”

“Eighty-seven,” Michael corrects. “You would be…”

“ _Kirk,_ ” he flashes her a wink, “ _James Tiberius. What about you? How did you guys know Pike?_ ”

“Until two days ago, he was our interim captain,” Michael replies. “In our timeline, he was a respected captain in the fleet, one of the best ranked in all time. Is this the same, here?”

“ _Yeah, total hard-ass, but brilliant._ ”

“ _As Captain,_ ” Spock adds, “ _he does know details of Starfleet’s defences._ ”

“It would be irrelevant,” Michael frowns, “unless your regulations are different from ours. On capture of a high-ranking officer, all their codes are changed.”

Spock raises an eyebrow. “ _That is not so, here, until fourteen standard days have passed._ ”

“ _What we need to do is catch up to that ship._ ” Kirk says, “ _Disable it, take it over and get Pike back._ ”

“I would agree with that assessment,” Saru adds, but Spock shakes his head.

“ _We are technologically outmatched in every way. A rescue attempt would be illogical._ ”

“What would be illogical is letting him blaze a path of destruction across the universe,” Michael retorts, “and you underestimate _our_ technology. Our drives are capable of crossing between universes. Space isn’t a challenge. You also have the majority of your systems up and running. Kirk’s plan is dangerous but sound. If you mean to regroup with other Federation vessels, we volunteer for the job.”

“ _You are not the captain of your vessel and your credentials need verification you do not have. Desist,_ ” Spock instructs her shortly. “ _We must balance the terms of engagement for our next meeting and gather Starfleet._ ”

“ _There won’t **be** a next engagement,_” Kirk tries to argue his point. “ _By the time we’ve gathered, it’ll be too late. If he’s from the future, he knows what’s going to happen; the logical thing to do is to be unpredictable._ ”

“ _You are assuming that Nero knows how events are predicted to unfold. To the contrary, Nero’s very presence has altered the flow of history, beginning with the attack on the U.S.S. Kelvin, culminating in the events of today, thereby creating an entire new chain of incidents that cannot be anticipated by either party._ ”

“ _An alternate reality, like Discovery described,_ ” their comms officer, a black woman with long hair in a ponytail, says. Spock nods, making his way to the Chair.

“ _Precisely. Whatever our lives might have been, if the time continuum was disrupted, our destinies have changed. Mr Sulu, plot a course to the Laurentian system, warp factor three. Discovery-”_

 _“Spock, don’t do that,”_ Kirk tries to head it off, approaching him. “ _Running back to the rest of the fleet for a- a- a confab is a massive waste of time-”_

“ _Discovery…I would request that you stay here to protect and organise the Vulcan refugees on Vulcan’s moon, offering aid where useful. Orders issued by Captain Pike when he left-”_

 _“He also ordered us to go back and get him,_ ” Kirk interrupts. “ _Spock, you are **captain** , now! You have to be-”_

“ _I am aware of my responsibilities.”_

_“Every second we waste, Nero’s getting closer to his next target.”_

_“That is correct and why I am instructing you to accept the fact that I alone-”_

_“I will not allow us to go **backwards-** ”_

It is an absolute train-wreck and the bridge-crew of _Discovery_ watch on in silence. Michael has no idea who Kirk is – he’s in no uniform, with no badges or rank – and Spock is just sitting there, _taking_ it. It’s how Michael knows that Spock agrees with him, but why he hasn’t considered other options is illogical and un-Spock.

“There is something wrong, here,” Michael murmurs. T’Pring beside her nods subtly and then- _then_ \- Kirk smashes the security guards and Spock uses a _Vulcan nerve pinch._

Michael doesn’t even realise she’s zoning out until Saru is touching her face. “Michael,” he says, voice urgent and his hand cool against her skin. “Michael, wake up. This is not the _Shenzhou_.”

Behind him, the screen is blank. Michael has no idea what happened. She clenches her fists, blinking, realising that she’s crying. T’Pring has backed away and Philippa is there – the Emperor is there and Michael lunges, arms wrapping around her tightly.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry-” she whispers like a mantra and Philippa doesn’t hesitate before dragging her out of there, away from the stares and the judgement. Her mind is muddled and everything is crashing down.

_Vulcan nerve pinch._

“I’m sorry,” she says, words garbled. Philippa shushes her and it’s the softest Michael has ever seen her before, her hand brushing Michael’s cheek and their foreheads drawing together.

“Oh, darling, you have nothing to be sorry for. Breathe, Michael. You’re here with me, on the U.S.S. _Discovery._ It travels by mushrooms and it’s navigator is excellent in bed – he has a cute little birthmark on his thigh.”

Michael chokes.

“And you didn’t want to hear that. I haven’t had to calm you down like this in years,” Philippa says, almost idly. Her arm is still wrapped around her and she brushes her hand through Michael’s hair in a soothing motion, falling quiet. “Many Terrans think it weakness, when a child cries. I think it a weakness in adults who cannot control their emotions – children are still learning how the world works, though. It is normal to be confused and scared. You have done excellently in keeping your traumas at bay, Michael, but you need to let them out eventually.”

“I did that to her,” Michael tells her. “I used a Vulcan nerve pinch incorrectly and I struck the match to spark the flames of war. I hadn’t seen it used again before now.”

“If you were Terran, I would have you use it again and again until you were numb to the pain,” Philippa says, voice level. “But you are not my Michael. You are Michael Burnham, Starfleet officer; and I believe your people handle these things through _therapy._ ”

Michael snorts and they sit there for a while. Michael doesn’t realise they’ve been monopolising Saru’s ready room until she twists slightly in Philippa’s grounding hug and sees Siranna’s knife in a pen-holder.

“That Kirk boy, he was marooned on Delta Vega,” Philippa eventually tells her. “Captain Saru plans to pick him up once Lieutenant-Commander Scott says he’s arrived. A shuttle might already be on its way.”

“Good,” Michael replies quietly. “Spock was…”

“Spock just lost his planet,” Philippa points out with a short scoff, “He is compromised, clearly. Are you ready to rejoin the crew, Michael?”

Michael looks into herself, feeling like the crack that had opened wide has been drained and knitted together again, with Philippa’s help. She nods and they stand, Michael pausing before going for one last embrace. Philippa allows it, pressing a familiar kiss to the side of her head. It’s a huge step for both of them.

“Can I-” Michael starts, before shutting down. Philippa leans back, narrowing her eyes.

“Can you what, Michael?”

Michael shakes her head. “It’s nothing. Later – I promise.” She swears and Philippa looks a little on edge, but she nods.

They return to the bridge and Philippa gives T’Pring the stink-eye until the Vulcan moves backwards, standing by Tilly instead, who stumbles over an apology for her losses in Michael’s hearing range. Her heart aches, but hearing T’Pring thank her in a soft voice makes it easier to bear. T’Pring even sounded _kind_ and she can discern Tilly giving her the basic rundown of her station; clearly, T’Pring wants to make herself useful and who are the exhausted _Discovery_ crew to deny her?

By Saru is Keenser, who rattles on about Scotty beaming away with Kirk and a Vulcan man, who was determined to come with them after a comment about _Discovery_.

“Kirk is back on-board the _Enterprise?_ ” Michael thinks it over, wondering what kind of technology Scotty was working on if he could beam someone several hundred thousand lightyears away. Starfleet must have been keeping it hushed up.

“Indeed,” Saru says, after Keenser mentions how determined he was to get back. “We shall return to Earth; the Vulcans are settled, for now and if necessary, either the _Mayflower_ or the _Armstrong_ can return for them.”

“They can do that now, at least,” Philippa smirks, winking at Tilly, who beams for once instead of stuttering. “We whipped them into shape, didn’t we Killy?”

“Totally,” Tilly beams at Saru, looking for approval. She gets a congratulatory nod, before Saru puts them on Black Alert once more. They jump to the dark side of the moon, in case Nero in the _Narada_ is around, but according to Owosekun, they’re lucky.

“He’s not arrived, yet,” she says. “Gives us more of a chance to work on repairs.”

“Yes – we need more shielding.”

“We’re back at twenty-three percent with some adjustments,” Tilly tells the bridge, “but that could turn to thirteen easy. One of the couplings is just about fried – it wouldn’t take more than one hit to bring down a section of our shields for good, until we get to a starbase for repairs.”

“Noted, ensign.”

“We need to contact HQ, but without the long road of identity verification,” Michael says, turning the conversation around. She looks to Keenser. “Do you have Lieutenant-Commander Scott’s authorisation codes?”

Keenser replies in the affirmative, giving them over with little more than a shrug. Saru enters them and _Discovery_ blinks, as if she’s going through a power surge before the long-range communications finally come back online.

“Excellent,” Saru says. “Now, let us hope that the commander has a clean-enough record for them to look over it, so that they might attempt to contact the rest of the fleet.”

“Aye, captain,” Bryce replies. It’s only twenty minutes later, however, when the _Narada_ finally makes an appearance – and apparently, hiding behind the moon isn’t enough. “They’re hailing us, Captain,” Bryce says.

“Put it on screen. Detmer, prepare to make evasive manoeuvres if they so much as target us.”

“Yes, sir,” Detmer replies, before Nero appears on screen.

“ _Captain Saru. My crew had a little chat since we last saw each other. Kaminar, wasn’t it? You were the first Kelpien to join Starfleet and make first contact, alongside one Michael Burnham – the First Mutineer of Starfleet._ ”

“You are correct.” Saru says. “However, Commander Burnham was exonerated of all charges.”

“ _I don’t know a lot of Starfleet’s history,_ ” Nero says, “ _I wasn’t a fan. Some of my crew though…they seem pretty impressed. The U.S.S. Discovery was the Ghost Ship, a phantom, a mirage…you were on the frontlines of a war your first officer started, Captain Saru. Congratulations on your promotion, by the way.”_

Saru inclines his head nervously. “Thank-you, though I’m still learning. How is Captain Pike, might I ask? He was our captain once, too.”

“ _Pike’s alive, if that’s what you’re asking,_ ” Nero grins. “ _But he’s a little…let’s call it damaged. It will be a long, painful death for him – well, painful above the legs._ ”

Michael hisses under her breath. _Captain Pike,_ she thinks mournfully and she hopes dearly that he’ll survive this.

Nero turns away from them briefly, “ _Lower the drill!_ ” he orders and Michael’s heart seizes.

 _Enterprise, this would be a good time to show up,_ she thinks, before Nero turns back them and grins.

“ _It was good talking to you all. Now, I know your ship is damaged, so in good faith, I’ll leave you alone – so long as you don’t interfere and move from behind that moon. Can you promise me that, Captain Saru?_ ” Saru hesitates, obviously concerned for them all, but it’s enough. Nero chuckles, before ending the communication with a satisfied smile.

“If you attack,” Philippa starts, “he’ll blow us out of the sky.”

“We need help,” Saru says, fingers tapping on the Chair. “Bryce, how is HQ?”

“They’re requesting assistance, sir, but they doubt the fleet will be here on time unless there’s a miracle,” Bryce shakes his head. “Section Thirty-One has been noted as an inactive combatant when I asked.”

Philippa snorts, “Of course they are. They’re interested in preserving the Federation as a whole, not one measly planet. I bet they’re packing up all their projects and experiments, trying to escape with their research.”

“A likely action,” Michael concurs. “Section Thirty-One always looks out for itself first, in the name of protecting the Federation.”

“Nero knows where we are, clearly,” Saru says.

“Aye, sir.”

“If we use the spore-drive, he’ll attack us on sight. We can’t transport other ships alongside our own, so bringing backup is a useless endeavour.” Saru bows his head, obviously thinking hard. Michael can’t come up with a solution.

“What if James Kirk is unsuccessful in wresting control from Spock?” T’Pring asks quietly.

“Then we watch Earth consume itself,” Michael replies in a tight voice. “Our shields are nearly gone, Nero knows where we are…”

Keenser pipes up, the universal translator overlaying atop his voice. “ _Why would Kirk want to fight with the Vulcan? He’s an old man._ ”

Michael looks at Keenser strangely. “Spock is a relatively young man, in this time. He’s not even old by Human standards, let alone Vulcan.”

Keenser shakes his head. “ _No, the old man on Delta Vega is Spock, unless it’s a common name, like Zefram._ ”

The bridge crew murmurs amongst themselves, confused, but Michael stares at him – realising now what the missing piece is.

“He waited twenty-five years because Spock didn’t go through the wormhole at the exact same moment as him,” she realises, attracting attention to herself. “The timesuit we have stabilises the wormhole, controlling where it goes, but if Nero’s ship and _Spock_ ’s ship went through at different rates, then there could be a time differential. Nero didn’t just want the present Spock to see the destruction of Vulcan – he wanted the _elder_ Spock to see it, too.”

“An elder Spock? From _our_ reality?” Saru questions, shocked. “Michael…your brother…”

“He’s an old man,” Michael says, T’Pring stiffening out of the corner of her eye. “There are two Spock’s, one from each reality. He went with Kirk to the _Enterprise_ and…what? What was he going to do?”

“Perhaps to prove that his younger self is emotionally compromised,” Philippa hums. “Yes, that would make sense. He is himself and if he wishes Kirk to become the captain, then all he has to do is convince his younger self to resign. It would be easy – it’s _him_.”

“And Spock is Spock,” Michael lets out a slight laugh. She looks at her station, seeing the imaging they have of the _Narada_ and its drill, turning on to laser a hole down to Earth’s core. “I trust him. He’ll manage whatever insane plan he has. It’s _Spock._ ”

Saru stands from his seat in the Chair, stepping forwards to look Michael in the eye. “The _Discovery_ cannot take any more damage. Do you trust that he and the _Enterprise_ will succeed?”

Michael looks up, meeting the gaze of one of her oldest friends. “I do.”

Saru reaches out, squeezing her shoulder. “Then so do I. _Discovery_ shall stand down and we shall trust that the _Enterprise_ and its crew will save Earth.”

“Thank-you for believing me,” Michael says.

“It’s nothing, Michael. You are my friend – and my Number One,” Saru smiles and Michael returns it, before Saru returns to the Chair and announces their intentions. Michael turns to Tilly, reaching out to take her offered hand, squeezing lightly.

“He’ll do it,” Tilly says encouragingly.

“I know he will.”

That of course, is when a tiny ship, faster than a Klingon warbird, flies to the drill and shoots it down.

“Picking up one life-sign on the ship,” Owosekun grins at them all, giddy with glee, “It’s Vulcan, sir.”

“Good job, little brother,” Michael whispers as the bridge erupts into cheers.

It’s not the end of it. The tiny ship jumps to warp and the _Narada_ follows. Saru is quick to join the chase, having Detmer follow it – just like the _Enterprise_ does. They drop out of warp together, just in time to shoot the missiles heading towards Spock, even as _he_ drives his tiny ship right towards the _Narada._

Michael’s heart leaps to her throat. “It’s a suicide run, unless they transport him out in time-”

The ships collide – “I detect three transports!” Nilsson exclaims in a hurry. “ _Enterprise_ got him out.”

“We can’t be sure,” Michael replies, before a singularity erupts from the centre of the _Narada_. It’s startling and bright – and then it’s all-consuming and utter dark. The _Discovery_ shakes and Saru orders a retreat.

“We must _not_ get stuck in that black hole’s gravitational well!”

“The _Enterprise_ is firing on the ship, sir!”

Michael exclaims, “Hail them! They have to know they’ll be caught in its gravity!”

“It’s too late – they already are,” Tilly pronounces, her worry obvious.

“Detmer, get us clear,” Saru orders.

“Captain-” Michael starts.

“There’s nothing we can do, Michael,” Saru interrupts, face grave. All his joy is gone. “If the _Enterprise_ cannot escape it, then they will die. If they do – we will be waiting for them at a safe distance.”

 _I can’t do this again,_ Michael thinks as they warp away, Detmer halting them eventually. They can see from a distance, magnifying the image of the _Enterprise_ and its struggle. Then they do the most stupid, most genius thing Michael has ever seen and throw out their own warp core, detonating it to make a tidal wave that pushes them out of the well.

“That was not Spock,” Michael chokes on her own words, Tilly standing to give her comfort, arm slipping around her waist. Michael allows it, watching as the _Enterprise_ approaches their position. “Hail them,” she orders, voice cracking and then they are there, on screen. Kirk is battered, sitting in the Chair, his bridge crew look exhausted, but victorious and Spock – Spock is there in two bodies.

“ _Hello Discovery. Nice team-up, there,_ ” Kirk says, smiling.

“Indeed it was,” Saru allows, before waving Michael forwards. “I believe you have a passenger who means a great deal to my Number One.”

Spock the Elder steps forwards, teary-eyed. He raises the ta’al. “ _Michael,_ ” he says, sounding hopelessly happy.

“Little brother,” Michael laughs, raising her own. She remembers pressing her gloved hand up against his and it must be so long ago for him. She doesn’t blame him for the tears that run down his cheeks, or the sob. “You got old.”

The sob turns to chuckles, his shoulders shuddering. “ _Sister-mine, I have gone so long without saying your name. Over a hundred years. We promised never to speak of you in the presence of others._ ”

Michael’s smile fades slightly, for she knows there is another. _Sybok,_ she thinks, but does not speak.

Spock wipes his face, however, glaring with narrowed eyes. “ _You lied to me. The seventh signal was meant to be sent if you reached your final destination, not if you found yourself in another timeline!_ ”

“You’re really getting into that now?” Michael scoffs, still so _happy._ “Little brother…so pedantic. Such a drama queen.”

“ _You’re the one inclined to drama, young lady,_ ” Spock says. Michael raises an eyebrow.

“‘Young lady’? My, my, Spock, _you’re_ the younger one.”

“ _Not consecutively,_ ” Spock argues.

“No,” Michael shrugs it off. “I remember you as a child. Adorable ears and a foot shorter than me.”

Spock scowls. “ _I am older than you._ ”

“Technically, you’re really not, if we’re comparing birthdays,” Michael points out. Spock rolls his eyes, waving off her claims. Michael watches him with hungry eyes, wanting to know everything he’s been though – how many years he really _has_ lived and what he did with them.

Behind him, Spock the Younger looks perplexed. He steps forwards. “ _Excuse me,_ ” he says, looking between them. “ _Am I to assume you are also half-Vulcan?_ ”

“I was adopted, Spock. Don’t get your panties in a twist,” Michael tells him. He raises his eyebrow at her in judgement. “My name is Michael Burnham. I came to live in your parents’ care in the original timeline when I was eleven and grew up on Vulcan. The Elder Spock here is my brother, not you – not unless you want me to be.”

“Greedy,” Philippa teases from behind her, smiling. Michael faux-glares at her.

“ _You have many people who you call family,_ ” Elder Spock says with a smile, glancing at his younger counterpart, “ _and you always welcome those who try. It’s quite the bad habit of hers._ ”

“Says the man who grew out his beard because he was having a mid-life crisis,” Michael retorts. Elder Spock scowls again.

“ _It was my choice. It may have been…an unorthodox one, but I was suitably informed by your own best friend that I ‘rocked it’.”_

Michael takes one guess at who told him that and looks to Tilly at her side for answers. Tilly flushes.

“What? Your brother was hot with the beard – he looks freaky without it.”

“ _I’ll take that under advisement,_ ” Spock the Younger says in a frank voice, causing Tilly to squirm in embarrassment. “ _Discovery, if you had a spare warp core on hand for the Enterprise to cannibalise, it would be much appreciated._ ”

“Of course, Commander Spock,” Saru tilts his head. “We’ll use the spore drive to return to Earth, for now.”

“ _Oh, the spore drive…_ ” Elder Spock sighs, so emotive that it begins to make Michael wonder. “ _Such a marvel of technology. Give my regards to your crew. Mayhaps, I shall come aboard and see you all in person._ ”

“That would be great, Spock,” Michael says gently, before Kirk nods.

“ _Awesome. Warp core for a Spock. Good trade. Call us if you need anything._ ”

“The same, Captain Kirk,” Saru says, before the communication comes to an end. Silence falls on the bridge for a short time, before Michael turns to Tilly with a raised eyebrow.

“So…you think my brother looks ‘hot’?”

Tilly groans. “ _Michael!_ ”

**Author's Note:**

> [ come say hi on tumblr ](https://wearethewitches.tumblr.com/ask)


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